Pie
by Floydfan22
Summary: Sherlock and baking? John didn't even know it was possible, but apparently it is, and apparently Sherlock really does care.


**I'm back again! I decided to write another oneshot because... why not? This is a Sherlock oneshot, obviously. I don't own Sherlock. If I did, I wouldn't be writing... never mind. I'd still write fanfiction about it. I hope you enjoy it, and I'm sorry if they seem slightly OOC. This is my very first Sherlock fanfic, so it's bound to have mistakes. **

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_Pie_

The delightful scent of baked apples and cinnamon was the first thing John noticed when entered the flat that evening. It was a rare smell, being that he usually came home to the bitter stench of decaying human flesh, but it was definitely a welcomed smell, and he rather enjoyed the change. He let the aroma lure him to the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Hudson baking over the stove. It wouldn't be that uncommon to find the motherly old woman baking in his flat today, that is, if she remembered what day it is. Really, who else could it be?

When he made it to the kitchen, however, he was completely taken aback by whom he saw standing over the counter.

"Ah, John. I presume work at the surgery was well today?"

John didn't respond at first, still trying to get over the initial shock of seeing Sherlock baking in the kitchen. Sherlock baking. Those words together sounded so... off in his mind. Maybe if the sentence was 'Sherlock baking rotting human organs,' it would make sense, but Sherlock baking actual edible food? It seemed so surreal to John.

Sherlock turned around and, upon seeing John, rolled his cloudy-blue eyes at the man's stunned expression, turning back around right after.

"When you're finished staring blankly at me, please feel free to respond to my question."

The former army doctor blinked, then shook his head. He knew he was making a bigger deal out of this than he should be, but it just seemed so strange to him, not only that Sherlock was _baking, _but that Sherlock was baking something that was actually _good__._ Well, it certainly smelled good didn't even know Sherlock had the ability to bake, so to come home to it was quite a surprise. A pleasant surprise, he might add.

"Oh, uh, sorry," John stammered out, mildly embarrassed by his previous silence. "Yeah, work was well. Um, are you baking?" John tried asking in in the most nonchalant tone possible, but he knew as soon as Sherlock turned to look at him again that there was no fooling the consulting detective.

"Well John, what can you deduce?" Sherlock asked in an almost teasing manner.

"Well, I suppose... I can deduce that you're baking."

"Wonderful job John. Quite an impressive deduction. I'm utterly astonished by how observant you are."

John sent a glare at the back of the detective's head, but the glare faded as quickly as it had come, a grin replacing it. He couldn't really explain it, but something was different about Sherlock Holmes today. Sure, his words were just as sarcastic and down-putting as they usually were, but they didn't contain that overbearing arrogance or bitter monotone that they usually contained. In fact, their was a bit of lightheartedness, and even joy, behind those words that John had never heard before. He actually liked it, despite how odd it was.

"So, do I have to deduce _why _you're making..." John glanced over Sherlock's shoulder, "apple pie?"

"The reason that I'm baking should be easily discernible, even for you. _Especially f_or you." Sherlock didn't look at John as he spoke, instead focusing on finishing the delectable looking pie before him.

John's eyes momentarily widened in realization, and he couldn't stop the smile from gracing his features.

"So this- this is for me then? For-"

"Yes, for your birthday. Obviously. I thought you would know that the moment you walked in, but I was mistaken."

Though Sherlock was making it seem completely natural, like it wasn't a big deal, John saw right past the consulting detective's apathetic attitude, and he was truly touched by the sentiment behind it. He wouldn't admit this to Sherlock, of course, being that the aloof man would undoubtedly deny it, but he would definitely remember it.

John tried to hide his ever-growing smile, not wanting to receive any rude comments from the tall man before him, and took a seat at the table.

"I honestly had no idea you could bake," John said in awe.

Sherlock brought the pie to the, for once, completely cleared off table, setting it down gently in front of John."

"I consider baking meaningless in most cases, but I thought I'd learn how to do it, just in case it became necessary in the future."

"So, does today count as necessary?"

Sherlock smirked. "I baked, didn't I? I wouldn't have baked if it hadn't been necessary."

John cut himself out a piece of the professional-looking pie, cutting one out for Sherlock after. The first bite was heavenly, and John couldn't stop himself from moaning in pleasure. Each savory bit after was just as good, and his plate was completely cleaned in a matter of minutes. Naturally, the consulting detective hadn't even touched his pie, but John wouldn't complain. More for him then.

As John went to grab another piece, he paused, looking up at Sherlock.

"Sherlock?"

"What?"

"Thank you, for this I mean. It's a great birthday present."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Oh please, enough with the sentiment. It's not a big deal."

John couldn't help but snicker at this. He knew the defiant detective would never admit it, but John knew Sherlock was capable of sentiment. He knew, deep down, Sherlock had the ability to care.

The pie was proof.

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**How was that? I had fun writing it, so I hope you had fun reading it! If not, that's cool. Have a nice night! (Or day, depending on where you are) Oh, and review if ****convenient. If inconvenient, review anyway. **


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